


The Annelies Connundrum

by SparklingP34ch



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 02:35:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16904472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparklingP34ch/pseuds/SparklingP34ch
Summary: The Doctor and Yaz explore an abandoned building in 22nd century Germany. Events unfold that make the pair travel back to Nazi germany to find the cause of a temporal distortion.





	1. Star Trek Doctors in TARDIS Blue

Smoke stained rubble lay in piles across the entrance. The air was thick with damp, suffocating us as we climbed towards what looked like a door.  
“I hate you for making me do this. You know I can’t protect you from a falling building, Yaz. As brilliant as the sonic is, it isn’t a magic wand... that’s just given me the best idea.”  
“Then why come with me?” My foot misplaced as I managed to balance myself. I turned and smirked at you as you also misplaced your foot.  
“Because you would have just come any way.” Before us was a kingdom of unknown wonder. Wires hanging like nooses from the roof. Discarded bricks, and metal poles making abstract mosaics on the ground. Metal pillars like those gracing the temples of ancient Greece were scattered equally around. The smell was potent. Like the stench of Sunday morning breath. As heavy as warm public toilet.  
“And I wanted to make sure you were safe.” Your breathless voice barely audible. You turned on the light from the phone I’d gotten you for Christmas last year- a few weeks ago. You asked when I had time to get it, to which I laughed and said we had all the time in the world. The first thing you did was download angry birds- albeit a few years too late. For a few weeks I regretted suggesting that you create a Twitter.  
Everything the light covered casted shadows, augmenting with every movement. The squelching under our feet was piercing. Through the darkness we could make out stairs.  
“We are so going up there.” My pace quickened as my excitement grew. I could feel the fear pulsing out of your body, not fear of the unknown, fear for me. You were hardly ever scared.  
“Why do you make me do these things? Daleks, I can handle. Zygons, love ‘em. 19th century burned down buildings in the middle of rural 22nd century Germany, not so sure about.”  
“I don’t make you!” Never did I drag you to do anything. You sighed.  
“No, but you’d still do things and then I’d have to come because I’d be worried. Why do you want to explore this anyway? We could go to ancient Sparta, or to a planet that is entirely made of gold.” 

“Yeah, but I love abandoned buildings.” Underfoot the stairs seemed stable, even if they were covered in mounds of earth, and God only knew what else.  
“You’d still climb those dodgy steps even if they were made of water” I couldn’t help but laugh at the image of myself surfing in here.  
“It not even funny because what if this falls down! You wouldn’t be laughing then. You’d have to get used to my new face. What if I became an old southern woman who hated biscuits and only wanted to live my life on the boiled cabbage smelling planet of Shlaar?”  
“You’re right I wouldn’t be laughing. Because I’d be dead and unable to laugh!” You frowned, the little line between your eyebrows growing deeper. Before us was a long corridor, each side decorated with arches to other rooms. The paint on the walls reminded me of a half peeled orange, underneath showing the veiny translucent skin of the structure. In many of the rooms, there seemed to be nothing but discarded files, and broken tables and chairs furnished with mould.  
“It stinks.” Your voice mumbled as your t-shirt covered your mouth, and nose.  
As the corridor ended, we entered a larger room with a latticed charcoal roof, and missing windows. Glass was shattered over the wet floorboards. Your hand slipped into mine. Normal objects would look minuscule when you held them, and I’d feel like a doll. You grip powerful, but your touch gentle, as if you could rip apart an apple without your thumbs piercing the skin. Your hands weren’t even large, they were dainty to look at, as if you played piano for a living, but you emanated strength. Now this room felt unsafe. Usually I’d be the naïve type, going head first into situations, but this needed caution – a trait I’d learned from you. I should be cautious, given my background, but that’s probably why I wasn’t given the good cases.  
“We should turn back”. You whispered, as if we were being listened to.  
“We don’t have to, not if we are careful. Plus, this leads to the exit down there.”  
“The floor is missing, and look at that” Your hand dropped mine and pointed to the ceiling, or lack of ceiling.  
“Just follow me” As I almost hop-scotched to the other side, you followed clumsily. I heard you grunt, knowing it wasn’t at the effort, but at me.  
“What shall we do afterwards? You know to keep my mind off the fact we have a 66.4% chance of being crushed to death.” The metal ladder leading down to the ground floor felt cold in my hands. Like a corpse, like the skeletal remains of this factory.  
“Wait until I’m down just in case”  
“Wow that fills me with confidence, thanks. What about the safari park? In all my years I have never been. Seeing animals of earth should be fun. Although I’m not sure on bees though. Haven’t had a good track record with them.”  
“One, I don’t think they have bees in a safari park. Two, using what car?”  
“You have your old one we can pick up!”  
“Will we even be allowed in in a police car?” Jumping down I landed in something pulpy. At least it warmed my feet, I thought. It felt like I was breathing moss. Every breath seemed dense, and moist. The novelty was starting to wear off.Your foot hit my chest with a hollow thud as you kicked back. For a second it took my breath, but I was more concerned about my shirt.  
“I’m so sorry I didn’t know you were there, are you alright? I’m sorry.” I flapped away your hands which were brushing my shirt. “Can we go now?” You reaches for your sonic, looking at it before placing it back in your pocket.  
“You know I wouldn’t have put you down as being afraid of old buildings.”  
“I travel to them when they are new buildings. Plus they are well creepy.” I could only imagine what I looked like covered in mud, but I looked at you and you still looked wonderful.  
Walking back I noticed an excited glint in your eyes. You reached for your sonic, surveying the surrounding area. “Knew it. Come on Yaz we need to get back.” Was all the explanation I got before you ran, this time I was the one following.  
“Temporal disturbance. That building, that area, I knew I felt something. It had a strange smell, like...” she thought for a moment “a cold sausage roll.”  
“Why didn’t you say?”  
“See if I’d had mentioned the temporal disturbance in the presence of the disturbance then it would have known that we knew and that could have opened a whole can of worms, snakes, eels, anything slimy.” You were fiddling with the console, you always did that, kind of like a child playing with one of those wooden toys that you get in banks. I left you to it, going to have a shower. I remember when you first told me about your sonic shower. I asked whether you had invented one after seeing it mentioned on Star Trek- my dad had made me watch reruns with him after school. You scoffed and said “Gene stole the idea from me.” And then told me how he had made the doctor’s uniform TARDIS blue after meeting you. You never failed to impress me.  
You burst in to the bathroom just as I had wrapped a towel around me. “Is that what your wearing today?” You asked. “You might need a jacket on.” I felt myself mouth “what.” Before answering “Of course not, it’s a towel.”  
“Why have you got a towel when you don’t have to dry off? Is it a fashion thing, like how people wear sunglasses in doors?”  
“Or long coats.” I smiled back, this time you were frowning. “But I am actually you know not dressed. Did you need anything?”  
“So I’ve managed to determine where the disturbance is coming from, or rather, when. So time is like an onion with layers, but all those layers overlap and are like a ball of...hair gel.”  
“So not like an onion at all?”  
“But something has happened that had pierced through the layers in that spot and it is originating in the early 20th Century.”  
“20th century Germany? Nazi Germany?”  
“I understand if you don’t want to come. I can drop you off at a spa that covers the surface of a moon? Or back at your mums for a bit?”  
“I’m coming with you.” Was all I had to say. You nodded and left. As I put my clothes back on I thought about what had happened back then, back in that dreadful time. We couldn’t save anyone, and that was the most painful thought.


	2. I Didn't Install a Beeper

There’s something thrilling about being in places you know you shouldn’t. At this point it was an addiction. I wondered if you felt this way, if you were tantalised with the danger we experienced as much as I was. I knew you were.   
That’s how you find yourself walking to a nearby 24 hour shop at midnight, feeling the breath of potential stalkers on the back of your neck. Squeezing your house key in your pocket, warming your cold hands.   
That’s how you find yourself weighed down with fear, and weightless with pleasure. Being face to face with the eye of a Dalek, knowing you are seconds away from infinity.   
And that’s why danger is so addictive. You teeter on the edge of losing everything you have ever known, and keeping everyone you have ever loved. The rush is like no other. And in that way, adrenaline is the heroin of the sober. 

We were stood in front of the manor. The overcast sky laying upon our heads, casting the dull world into a deep shadow. The broken doors now clinging to their hinges, and nowhere in sight was the dull yellow demolition tape which hung loosely from its frames. The outside windows were decorated with the red, white and black emblem, the flag wriggling in the breeze. Men in round green helmets stood strategically around each entry, unmoving. We started moving towards the one stationed upon the main entrance. He flinched, gripping the gun in his hands tightly, pointing the cylindrical barrel at each of us, moving it as though it were a Newton’s cradle.   
“Who are you, and what do you want?” You took a second to think of what our personas would be, pulling out your psychic paper as if it were a weapon. For the first time he seemed visibly shook, and only muttered “Pass.” You folded it back and lovingly placed it back into your pocket. You never did tell me what it had said on there. 

It was such a richly furnished place, as though it were a Doll’s house the had been enlarged. A log fire crackled to the side of us, dancing in the pale light of the room. To the left of us was a deep umber wooden staircase, with a bannister as thick as an oak branch. Towards us strolled a man, no taller than 5”8 in a grey suite. He was decorated with a cigar between his yellow teeth. He stopped, raising his arm and stamping down. Two words slipped through his clenched lips, to which neither you or I responded to. His eyebrow raised, and his fingers hovered above the hanging gun at his hip. You showed your paper again, wearing the contempt in your face as if it were a medal of honour. His hand dropped and he blew smoke around us. With no other words uttered, he gestured towards the staircase, you followed his direction pulling the sleeve of my jacket.  
“What did you show him?” I asked  
“I’ll tell you later, Yaz. Stay by my side and don’t wander off.” Your voice was low and commanding, a tone I had not heard before. I felt as if you were hiding something from me, I knew that you were hiding something from me.

We strayed into a few rooms, their interiors matching the rest of the manor. Apparently we had found nothing. I asked whether we should try downstairs instead.  
“No. Listen to me, Yaz, do not go downstairs. Do not leave my side, do you understand me?” I felt myself frown at you, and struggle from your grip, your hands fell from my arms as I stepped back. Being in Nazi Germany, surrounded by men who would push their rifles to my head and pull the trigger without hesitation didn’t scare me as much as you did in that moment.   
“I won’t” Was all I said, you nodded and politely smiled back at me. Your eyes were heavy. Usually the worry in your face was like a heavy duvet, making me feel warm and protected, this time they were boulders, hard and cold, crushing me. 

“Nothing. There has to be something, I traced the distortion back to this exact date. There’s something here, and it should be in one of these rooms.” It was more like you were thinking out loud rather than speaking to me. You pointed your sonic around, and started scanning the walls and floor, every few seconds looking at it in disappointment, until it started to beep. “Beeping? How can it be beeping? I didn’t install a beeper? What does the beeping mean?” You started running forwards, making the noise louder. We turned a corner and you stopped suddenly, making me run into your back. You grabbed my hand, I knew it was more to comfort yourself rather than me. In front of us was two men and a woman.   
“We need to go” You whispered to me, backing away. They started to follow.


End file.
